Diary of a Blond Ferret
by gravityfeelsx
Summary: "All right, which one of you insufferable idiots posted this online? And put a charm on it so it can't be deleted? You are making a very big mistake here! I will personally make sure to ruin your life!" -Draco Malfoy


**disclaimer**

 **a note from the author**

 **XXX**

 **The REAL Harry Potter series was written by the fabulously brilliant JK Rowling, and sadly, the wreck of a fanfiction you are reading right now was written by a not fabulous, not brilliant, wreck of a fangirling mess. They will try (and probably fail) to make you laugh in their journey with their one smol bean, Draco Malfoy. In other words, I do not own Harry Potter, I simply attempt to recreate the beautiful piece of work using my messy imagination. It is partly OOC, I'll tell you that, since it is a humorous work of fiction.**

 **Sincerely,**

 **Lemony Snicket**

 **XXX**

 **Entry One**

Dear Diary-BLOODY HELL! Journal.

My father bought you today. All right, that sounds rather wrong... but you know what I mean. Don't worry, Journal, I do not think you are a slave.

If you aren't a pig-faced, dirty-blooded idiot and know how to read, you'll probably know-or at least have heard-er, read-about me, and have an idea of who I am. Draco Malfoy. Slick blond hair, sexy British accent, perfect grey eyes- why, I'm like a classier version of all of One Direction. Ring a bell? No? Dramatic sigh. All right then.

Allow me to introduce myself...again.

My name is Draco Lucius Malfoy, though some like to call me Draco LUSCIOUS Malfoy. If you're wondering about the name, don't even bother. I tried asking my parents why in Merlin's name they would want to name me after the guy who wrote Hotline Bling. In return, I received a light smack across the face.

My parents, by parent standards, are all right. Since I'm always at hell (school), they pamper me to death whenever they get the chance. Feasts, Barbie dolls, and the best wizarding gadgets Galleons can buy. I'm spoiled, it's true. But I didn't spoil myself.

So...yes, I attend hell (school) at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Now, Diary-

BLOODY HELL.

Journal: in Hogwarts, there are four houses that you can get sorted into; Gryffindor, for the "I want to be the hero, who cares if I get killed!" type people; Hufflepuff, for the..fluffy, cuddly, silly finders; Ravenclaw, for the irritating, know-it-all nerds; and finally Slytherin, the best house in my opinion, for the cool ones with swagger and deliciousness and especially the purest of blood. If it were up to me, only the Slytherin house would exist to begin with, but unfortunately it isn't.

Of course, I was Sorted by the Sorting Hat into Slytherin because...I'm amazing.

Before I got Sorted, I was to meet my lifelong rival - Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. The name just oozes with fame. Potter's the kind of person who'd sacrifice his entire fortune his parents left him to help his penniless sidekick, Ron Weasley. I don't know about you, but stupidity of that sort just doesn't seem to possess me.

Still, things could have been different if he'd just listened to my advice. He could've gotten into Slytherin with me and had a much better time. Especially since he's got those great green eyes and a sexy voice- oh god, WAIT. W A I T.

You didn't read that. Is there a way we can erase this? No? Oh god, it's in permanent ink.. and I can't just cross it out, it'll ruin the paper.

Pretend I never said that, okay? Ahem.

Anyway. Forget about Potter's sexiness. My head of house is Severus Snape, who's basically a walking example of what happens when one doesn't follow their shampoo/conditioning schedule. Oh, and he teaches our Potions class. Can't forget that. Yawn. I'm a boss at Potions, so I hardly have to sweat much.

Some of my very lucky friends are Crabbe and Goyle (#homies), Blaise Zabini, Milicent Bulstrode, and the simpering cow/my stalker, Pansy Parkinson. They're fun to play around with. Occasionally I share my toys with them, but for the most part... (whisper) They're at my mercy.

Of course, I only befriend people of the highest calibre. For example, I wouldn't be caught dead with Hermione Granger anywhere, both of her parents are Muggles. Sigh. Such a waste of brains and beauty. Not to mention, she's got a powerful ass punch. Yes, I mentioned before that I lowkey have the hots for Potter, but he doesn't matter much when you put him next to someone like her. Sighh. As much as I like her, I have to act like I hate her.

Why, you ask? My parents would kill me. Depressing really.

I mean, I know she likes me back. It's so obvious. Sure, she punched me in the face and called me a foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach, but... words don't always tell the story, now do they?

Now, about You-Know-Who. Both my parents are huge followers of him. He has this squad called the Death Eaters, which my awesome parents are part of. Still, even if Mother and Father love him, he scares the crap out of me. I hope I never have to work for him-however, I'd do anything to make Father proud. Even HUG the Dark Lord.

Oh, Journal, I think we're going to have a lot of fun.

Can you promise that you won't spill any of my secrets?

Yes?

All right.

Goodbye.

I shall see you tomorrow with a full entry.

 _Love and butterfly kisses,_

 _Draco L. Malfoy_


End file.
